Introductions
by Miss Vannix
Summary: After escaping Purgatory, Eliot keeps his team safe- from a distance. But when their new mark turns out to be a vampire with a fixation on Parker, he needs to call in backup. And there's only one man he trusts enough to help. Please read Escape before reading this one.


**Hi, everyone! Sorry I have been gone for so long. I've missed you guys so! Anyway, I have another story here for you. It's the second installment after Escape. If you haven't read that one yet, I suggest you do. Thanks a bunches to my beta-reader and co-author, Phoenixofthelostandforgotten. She's the one who has made this possible along with you guys.**

 **Lots o' Love,**

 **Miss Vannix.**

* * *

The apartment behind Hardison's brewery was unfamiliar to him. He entered through a window in the back, the team's scents hitting him hard. He rocked back on his feet for a moment as he took in the bar where the team sat, a computer screen set into the counter top. A keyboard sat off to the side, and the computers at the center of the room played a screensaver with the word _Leverage_ bouncing around. Eliot made sure not to touch anything and move quickly as he easily located Nate's desk in the back. The desktop was clean of paper, which wasn't uncommon with Hardison around. He liked to keep everything digital.

He crouched down by the desk and opened the top drawer, searching for the list he had provided Nate with a year ago, just in case something happened to him. The paper contained a list of names the team could trust to be their hitter. He pulled it out of a manilla folder, which had apparently lain untouched since he'd first given it to Nate. There were no marks on the white printer paper, not even a wrinkle. Next to the ten names were notes, such as prices and personal thoughts on each person. He slipped the improved paper into the manilla folder and put it back in its place.

He had only added a few things. _Dean Winchester: 6 figures. I'd trust this man with my life. Now I'm trusting him with yours._

…

The first thing Dean did when he got back was search for his brother. It didn't take long to find Sam Winchester. Sam had found somebody, a woman with curly dark hair and brown eyes. Dean could tell it was the first time his brother had been happy in almost nine years, and it made him ache inside. Looking in from their front window, Dean's eyes widened when Sam caressed the woman's stomach, drawing his attention to the bump beneath her sweater. He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. There was a Sammy 2.0 on the way.

He slowly moved away from the window and began towards the car he'd borrowed from somebody two towns over. The instant he slid into the driver's seat, his phone began to ring.

…

Eliot was leaning against a worn Ford pickup when an old Harley pulled into the motel parking lot, its rider wearing a helmet that disguised his features and a leather coat that made his broad shoulders look more muscled. Eliot smiled when he caught Dean's scent, the mixture of gunsmoke, alcohol, and leather making his insides twist. He had really missed the hunter. Dean parked the motorcycle in the space next to Eliot's truck, the rumbling engine cutting off as he pulled the key out of the ignition. He watched as the hunter swung off the motorcycle, pulling the helmet off and setting it on the seat.

Eliot's heart raced as Dean smiled at him, and in five steps was in his personal space, hands on the truck window beside Eliot's head, lips connecting with his in a fury of teeth and tongue. Eliot's hands dropped to Dean's hips, fingers digging into his jeans as his tongue worked inside Dean's mouth. He moaned into the kiss, his head tilted back and pressed against the window. Dean's hands moved from their place on the window, dancing along Eliot's body until they reached the globes of his ass, where they gripped tight and jerked Eliot against him. His lips were numb as the hunter pulled away with a smirk.

"I missed you, dog breath," he murmured, his eyes taking in Eliot's darkened eyes and flushed cheeks.

Eliot glared at the hunter. "Dammit, Dean. You just had to open your mouth."

Dean claimed the wolf's lips in a softer kiss this time, then smiled. "You know a _very_ easy way to shut me up," he whispered against Eliot's lips.

The wolf grinned as he shoved his hand between their bodies, purposely trailing his hands down Dean's chest, fingers ghosting along the front of Dean's jeans. He pulled his hand away as Dean moaned deeply and fished the motel key out of his pocket. He held the card between his pointer and middle fingers, growling low in his throat as Dean moaned again at the sight of the key. Eliot pushed Dean away, making the hunter stumble back, almost hitting his motorcycle, and then he pounced, grabbing the front of Dean's jacket and pulling him towards the door labeled _5._ Eliot's wolf was growling and snapping at the cage Eliot had shoved him into. His wolf wanted Dean, wanted to _claim_ the hunter.

Eliot roughly turned and pressed Dean's back against the hotel door, nipping at Dean's jaw and trailing down Dean's neck until he reached his pulse point, where he sucked at the skin until blood rose to the surface. Dean moaned wantonly, his neck arching until the crown of his head was pressed against the wood of the door. Eliot's member jerked in his jeans at the sound.

"I _want_ you _,_ Dean," he growled into Dean's neck.

Dean's hands were tangled in Eliot's hair, fingers clutching at the soft strands. He jerked Eliot's head up until their lust filled eyes connected. "You have me, baby. I'm yours."

Eliot growled and claimed the hunter's lips as his hand fumbled to get the key card into the door behind Dean's back. When the door clicked open, Eliot ripped the key out of the lock and pushed Dean inside. The key hit the floor as the door closed and locked behind them. Eliot ripped Dean's jacket off his shoulders, the leather hitting the floor as he began to work on Dean's flannel and gray t-shirt. His fingers raked down Dean's bare chest, blunt nails leaving scratches as he ripped Dean's belt free of his jeans.

Dean worked on Eliot's t-shirt, getting the wolf free of the item and pressing his lips to the hitter's bare shoulder. His nails dug into Eliot's back, making the wolf moan lowly and rip the rest of Dean's clothes off his muscular body. Dean's lips locked with the wolf's, and then he was airborne. His back connected with the mattress, and he bounced for a second before Eliot pounced on him, shoving his shoulders into the bed and rubbing his now bare pelvis on Dean's, giving just enough friction to make Dean's back arch and a filthy moan to be ripped out of his mouth.

 _Eliot_ was all Dean could think, could _say,_ as the wolf flipped him onto his knees and placed a kiss on the base of his spine, a wet digit already breaching him, making him moan into the comforter. Precome leaked out of his memeber as Eliot quickly added another finger, the burning stretch turning into a spike of pleasure that shot straight to his groin. Dean sobbed out the wolf's name as he added a third finger, and then four. Dean was a mess of nerves and pleasure as Eliot finally entered him, back arching and fingers curling into the bed sheets. Eliot's left hand was digging into the muscle of Dean's thigh, his right pulling on Dean's short hair until his neck arched.

Eliot sank his teeth into Dean's neck, tasting blood as he continued to pound into the hunter, Dean's moans filling the hotel room. The hunter was close. Eliot could tell by the way his hips spasmed and his moans began to turn into sobs. Eliot pressed his lips against Dean's ear as he whispered things that would make him blush in the light of day, and then Dean was orgasming, screaming as his pleasure shot on the comforter underneath him, and Eliot followed him, roaring.

Dean went limp in Eliot's arms, and Eliot had just enough energy left to pull the hunter away from the mess they had made and collapse at the end of the bed, Dean's back pressed against his chest, legs tangled with his. Eliot tightened his arms around the hunter and buried his nose into his neck. Eliot sighed deeply and snuggled in, ready for a nap.

He was woken an hour and a half later by some Blue Oyster song playing loudly throughout the room. He shook his sleep addled mind awake as his hand fumbled along the floor for the ringing phone. Dean stirred slightly in his arms, but didn't wake as Eliot finally found the source of the _annoying_ music in Dean's discarded jeans. He squinted at the phone screen and he quickly shook Dean awake.

"Dean, wake up. It's Nate calling you. They need you," Eliot murmured.

Dean blinked blearily up at him, then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and took the phone from Eliot. "Yo," he groaned eloquently.

Eliot could easily hear Nate on the other end. " _Dean Winchester? You come very highly recommended by a close friend of mine. I have need of your… expertise."_

Dean yawned and let his head fall against Eliot's shoulder. He then answered, "You're lucky. I happen to be free at this moment. You know my price?"

" _I am aware. Six figures. Mr. Winchester, your job will be to protect my team from any threats, be they from the mark or otherwise. Staying with the plan. Following orders. Can you do that?"_

Dean's eyes widened, but kept his voice carefully neutral as he answered. "You'll find that I can do that very well, Mr..." He trailed off, waiting for the man to state his name.

" _Nathan Ford- Nate. I'm gonna need you here in Portland, Oregon by tomorrow, Mr. Winchester."_

"I'm not that far away, Nate. And, please, don't call me Mr. Winchester. Dean will do. I'll see you in a few hours." Dean hung up the phone and tossed it to the other end of the bed.

Dean gave Eliot an incredulous look. " _Six figures?_ Wolf, I've never even had more than three at a time. What am I even supposed to do with all that dough?"

Eliot sighed and lightly traced a fingertip over Dean's bottom lip. "I had to make you look like a real hitter. You would have raised eyebrows if your price was so low. I had to make you look _appealing._ "

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "So, I'm not appealing?" he asked, gesturing to his naked form laying atop the covers, love bites not-so-discretely scattered along his skin.

Eliot laughed, and Dean's insides quivered with the sound. After pushing his hair back behind an ear, his eyes went dark and hungry. "You're _very_ appealing, Hunter. Now, about how many hours before you have to meet Nate?"

…

"Look, here's the low down nasty on this creep. His mom died in a fire when he was four years old. He was raised by his ex-Marine father and bounced around the country. Never stayed in the same school for a full year. He dropped out of highschool when he was sixteen. Never got a GED. Never had a job, for that matter. He's been arrested multiple times on multiple charges, everything from credit card scams to grave desecration to murder. St. Louis in '05, he was accused of being a serial killer, though before he could be convicted he was found shot dead at one of his scenes. Then he popped up in Milwaukee. He held up a bank with a dozen hostages inside. He and his brother, who was in on all this with him, escaped dressed as SWAT agents. They disappeared for a few years, then they got caught on camera shooting up a St. Louis diner. Apparently, they were found dead _again_ before they could be convicted. That's the last confirmed thing I could find on him. Look, I don't know why Eliot trusted this guy, but he's the very _definition_ of psycho. This is _not_ a guy we want on this team." Hardison finally ended his long winded rant, clicking bringing up various pictures of the infamous Dean Winchester on the screen.

Most were mugshots, him making mocking faces at the camera. Other pictures came from various law enforcement agencies, mostly him and his brother caught on camera. Hardison looked at the team pleadingly. He could tell Sophie was on his side, but Nate's face wasn't giving anything away and Parker looked intrigued. His eyebrows rose as he waited for the answer he hoped he'd get.

"Look, guys. Eliot trusted this Winchester for a reason. Murderer or not, he was placed high on his list. At the very top, actually," Nate stated with finality.

Hardison's eyes about popped out of his head as he sputtered. "Wha- What? Nate, you can't be serious! This guy is going to kill us in our sleep!" Hardison's voice rose an octave.

"I agree with Hardison, Nate. He's too unpredictable, who knows what he might do?" Sophie said, rubbing her hands on her arms, as if to ward off a chill.

"Thank you, Mama. Thank you." He threw his hand out in Sophie's direction and glaring at Nate.

"We're not asking him to be apart of the team, Hardison. We're asking him to come in on _one_ job. We all have dark spots in our pasts. Eliot's rap sheet isn't-" Parker's voice cracked. "- _Wasn't_ much better."

"Look, I get what you're all saying, but this dude might kill us, bury us, then _dig us up again."_ His eyes were still wide as he gave each one of the team a desperate _look._

Dean smiled from his place against the back wall, watching as the team debated whether to bring him in on this job or not. He was surprised not one team member noticed him standing there behind them, making himself comfortable in _their_ own office _._ They _were_ thieves, after all. Eliot had finally told him what his team did, stepping in where the law couldn't cover, gaining leverage over their targets and then taking them for everything they had. Dean actually admired them. They were helping people.

His eyebrows shot up at Hardison's last comment on his character, and he barely kept his laugh in as he pushed away from the wall. He couldn't resist scaring them a little. "Nah, I wouldn't dig ya up again. I only like old bones."

Hardison jumped back a few steps, letting out a very manly yelp, and Sophie grabbed Nate's arm. Parker, oddly enough, just studied him from her seat without even blinking.

"Guys, meet Dean Winchester," Nate said, waving a hand behind him in Dean's direction.

Dean smirked slightly at the team and walked up to the computer screen, watching Hardison trip over his own feet in his attempt scramble away from him out of the corner of his eye. He walked up to the computer screen, which displayed his favorite mug shot. He smiled.

"I call that one the _Blue Steel,"_ he stated to no one in particular.

After a moment of awkward silence, Nate said, "So, Dean, this is what you're going to be doing. You'll protect my team as they go up against the mark. Most of the work we didn't need you for has already been taken care of. You'll be a shadow. Can you-" Nate was cut off by Hardison's yelp of surprise.

"Man, he's carrying a machete! A fucking machete!" He pointed a shaky finger at the weapon strapped to Dean's belt and thigh.

Nate gave the hacker a look. "As I was saying, can you do that?" he asked.

Dean looked away from Hardison and nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. But I do nothing else. I protect, and that's it."

Nate nodded as he stood up and smacked the table. "Alright. Let's go take down Bradley Hancock."

As the team stood to leave, Parker walked up to inspect Dean more closely, tuning out Hardison's warnings. She circled, looking him up and down, and he did the same to her. Finally, she asked, "What's with all the little bruises on your neck?"

If he was surprised or embarrassed, he didn't show it. Instead, he smiled. "Well, darlin'," he drawled. "Sometimes my lovin' gets a little rough." He winked and walked out, leaving a curious Parker and a dumbfounded Hardison in his wake.

…

Eliot kept watch from a distance, eyes covered with sunglasses and hair tucked up under a beanie. He chewed on gum as he pointedly kept his eyes off the five. Dean came out first, a finger pressed to his ear, adjusting to the coms. He pulled off to the side of the brewery and kept his back to the wall, keeping an eye out for any potential threats as the rest of the team walked by. Dean waited until Hardison closed the door behind him before stepping out behind the hacker.

When Hardison was seated safely inside Lucille, Dean turned to the car Sophie was in. He'd obviously been put on grifter duty for the day, as she was closest to the mark and therefore in the most danger. He chuckled at the blatant disdain on Sophie's face as Dean closed his door and gave her a winning smile. The eye roll as she pulled away was a trademark of Sophie's, one that Nate received often.

He watched as the three vehicles pulled away before he moved out of the the small diner door he'd been hiding in. He followed the group easily on foot, sprinting faster than the average human. As the procession finally came to a stop in the business area, Eliot ducked into the building directly across the street from Hancock Enterprises, which specialized in getting transplants to people who needed them, quickly and efficiently. While Nate knew that the company was taking hardworking people's money and supplying less-than-healthy organs in return. Once the patient died, they denied any connection to the victim. And there was no way to prove it; every paper had been signed in the Hancock offices and then promptly burned in the basement.

While they had caused the deaths several people, Eliot knew that the transplants were just a front for what was really going on. Bradley Hancock was supplying supernatural creatures with good stock: brains, blood, hearts, and any other edible organ. Whatever the monsters wanted, they could get. For a price, of course. The good stock that was supposed to go to the human clients went to monsters instead. A little boy was sitting in a hospital, hooked up to a dialysis machine because some ghoul had developed a taste for kidneys.

Eliot was just close enough to hear what Hardison was telling the team, walking Parker through the basement, leading her to the room where the documents were burned. Eliot tensed when he heard Hardison tell Parker she had three minutes to find the papers and get out of there before Bradley's assistant returned. While Eliot knew that Parker did things like this on a daily basis, it was usually humans they were up against. These were vampires, something Parker knew nothing about, and quite frankly, it scared Eliot. She was in there alone.

He waited tensely for those three minutes, back straight and hands curled into fists. He slumped in relief when he caught the sound of Parker's voice over the coms. " _I'm out. I've got the documents."_

A moment later, Dean came through. " _We're out too. Dracula lookalike in there bought every word. He's proven dangerous in the past, though. We're going to want to keep an eye on everyone."_

Eliot sighed and slumped against the wall, rubbing his jaw. The first part of the hunt, the hardest part, was finished. All he and Dean had to do now was go in and officially take care of Bradley Hancock and his little minions. And then they were home free.

 **...**

"So, Nate has the info he needs to take down Hancock?" Dean asked drowsily, his face shoved into his pillow.

Eliot was on his side, facing Dean, left arm curled under his pillow. His eyes were heavy as he answered. "Yeah. Generally, after they get the proof they need, they start tearing the mark's life apart, depending on what he he loves most: his name, money, or business. Nate goes after their weaknesses. The company is where Hancock's most vulnerable, so they'll hit him there first."

Dean nodded and snuggled deeper into his pillow, the blankets stopping at his naked hips, leaving his torso bare. His pale skin was littered with new bruises and scratches, even a few bites, the impression of Eliot's teeth still visible. Eliot was sporting new bruises of his own, a hickey sucked onto his clavicle, and scratches starting at his shoulder blades and tapering off at his waist. Dean remembered vividly how he'd given Eliot the scratches.

 _He was flat on his back, his open legs cradling Eliot, who thrust into him at a slow pace, laying hot kisses on Dean's chest and neck. As Eliot's member brushed Dean's prostate, his back arched up on a moan and his fingers dug into Eliot's shoulders, short nails digging into skin and dragging down until Dean grabbed the globes of Eliot's ass and pulled him closer, again moaning as Eliot drove impossibly deeper._

Dean's insides quivered and he shifted, trying to get comfortable once more. Eliot huffed every time Dean moved and shook the bed. Out of one slitted eye, Eliot watched the hunter roll onto his back, stay there for a moment, then turn over onto his right side to face him, groan, and shift over onto his left side. Finally, the hunter went still, and Eliot sighed deeply and closed his eye. He really needed to sleep. One eye again popped open as Dean shimmied backwards until his back was pressed against Eliot's chest, legs sliding in between the wolf's, and his head came to rest on the pillow beside Eliot's.

The wolf sighed and shut his eye once more. "Comfortable now?"

Dean nodded against the soft fabric of the pillowcase, making a soft sound of contentment.

Eliot curled his arm around Dean's waist and pressed his nose into Dean's hair. Finally, at three in the morning, all was quiet in the hotel room.

…

A few short hours later, Eliot was woken again by the same _very_ annoying ringtone. Dean mumbled something incoherent next to him and threw his arm out, searching for the cellphone currently charging on the bedside table. His fingers brushed the cord, and he latched onto the wire, pulling the phone off the bedside table and onto the bed. He didn't bother to unplug it as he pried his eyes open and blearily focused on the screen. He hit the green button.

"'lo?" Dean asked sleepily.

" _Dean, Parker's place has been broken into. It happened an hour ago. She's nowhere to be found. Dean, Hancock's men took her,"_ Nate's voice came through the phone, slightly panicked.

Dean was already pulling on his jeans, keeping the phone pinned between his shoulder and ear. Eliot was moving now, too, grabbing his pants from a pile on the floor and slipping a t-shirt over his head. He listened carefully to every word Nate was saying.

"Why didn't anyone call me sooner?" Dean demanded as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor, not caring who's it was and pulling it over his head.

" _We were trying to find her first. We tracked the GPS in her cell until it suddenly cut off. The phone was probably destroyed,"_ Nate replied.

"Text me her last known location. I'll be there shortly." Dean hung up. He threw the phone on the table and began to lace his boots.

"I thought you said you checked the area," Eliot growled out.

Dean looked up and glared at the wolf. "I did, Eliot. _Twice._ There was no sign of anything or anyone coming to take her."

Eliot glared back at the hunter, but his anger at the other man was slowly dissipating. It wasn't Dean's fault that the vampire had taken Parker. It was hard to ward vampires off houses. They didn't have to ask to enter the house, garlic didn't work, and holy water was a joke to them. Dead man's blood was pretty much it, and even as random as Parker was, she wasn't likely to keep vials of the stuff on hand.

"Eliot, I'm going to get her back. _Alive._ No matter what," Dean whispered and stood, picking up his machete off the table, strapping it to his hip.

Eliot walked forward and grabbed the back of Dean's neck, pulling the hunter to him until their foreheads touched. "You come back too, hear me? I'm not losing a team member today." It was Eliot's way of apologizing for his outburst.

Dean didn't reply, but he clasped Eliot's shoulder and gave the wolf a small smile. "I'll come back to you. Just like a soldier coming back to his wife after the war."

Eliot growled at the hunter and gripped him tighter. "I mean it, Dean. We have no idea how many are in there, and _you're going in there on your own._ "

Dean's smile fled and he sighed. "I've dealt with worse. Stay close. I'll whistle if I need you."

Eliot ignored the jab and pressed his lips roughly to Dean's.

…

"Alright, her last known location was a mile away from the warehouse district. That's where the signal dropped out," Hardison said, clicking to bring up an area of about with at least two hundred warehouses in it.

Dean leaned against the bar and tapped his fingers impatiently on the tile. "Have you checked the names on the leases?" he asked.

Hardison nodded. "Yeah, I cross checked with his name and the names on the leases. No matches."

Dean went quiet and looked down at the bar top. A thought occurred to him. "Did you check for his company's name?" he queried, shoving away from the bar and walking around the bar to stand in front of the computer screens.

"If he's doing this business on the side, I doubt he'd want his business involved. It's way too risky for him, and it's a waste of our time," Sophie stated from behind him.

Dean folded his arms across his chest. "I'm serious, Hardison. Do it before I _make_ you." He gave the hacker a dangerous look.

As expected, Hardion complied. He fumbled to bring up the list, filtering out everything but the warehouses with company names on the lease. Skimming through it, he stopped and let out a string of expletives.

Nate spoke up. "What'd you find, Hardison?"

The hacker sighed. "This." He clicked and pulled up an image of a lease agreement, showing a warehouse rented to Fleming Financial. "This is one of Hancock's shell companies. He uses it to help find potential clients. This is their property."

"We would have missed that," Sophie said almost inaudibly, obviously not meaning to be heard. Dean felt the grim satisfaction that came with being right in a terrible way.

"That's where they're keeping her," he stated confidently. At Nate's questioning look, he explained further. "It's isolated. These warehouses are used for storage, and not much else. Not many people, and even if there were, the sounds of the docks would cover up any screaming. Assuming the people in there are even conscious or coherent enough to scream. And if one happened to escape, then they'd have to run pretty far to find help. Plus the place is under the name of a different company, so it'd be hard to trace anything back to him if it were discovered. Yeah, that's where she is."

Nate obviously agreed. "Alright. Hardison, pull up the plans for the warehouse and the surrounding area."

 **...**

Dean stood outside the warehouse door, fussing with the com in his ear. The team stood behind him, going over the warehouse plan that was spread out on the hood of Lucille. Dean had studied the paper on the way over and was confident he knew the warehouse well enough to navigate it. A large, open room that had a single door which connected to a short hallway that led to exactly two rooms. All in all, not that easy to get lost inside.

Dean turned away from the door. "Look, I'm gonna head in there, and y'all are gonna stay out here in Lucille."

The three went quiet and shared a glance, speaking through looks. Sophie was the first to nod and step away from the blueprints. "Okay, Dean. Get her back to us, please? We've already lost too much." Sophie had tears swimming in her eyes.

For the first time, keeping Eliot's secret made him feel guilty. He almost wanted to spill his guts then and there, just to see that _look_ wiped off their faces. The look of pain from losing someone you love. He nodded. "I will."

Nate didn't say anything, just nodded his head in Dean's direction and wrapped his arm around Sophie's shoulders.

Hardison, however, had different ideas. "No. _No._ I don't trust you as far as I can throw you, Winchester. I'm going in there with you." He said with finality.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the hacker, but he couldn't really fault him for it. He wouldn't trust himself either. He didn't have any time to argue with him, either. Every second spent out here was another second that Parker could be killed, or worse, turned. He briefly surveyed their surroundings, and a flash of metal caught his eye. It was about three feet long with an sharp, jagged edge. The other end was in perfect shape, the square end smooth and nothing sticking out of it. A good makeshift weapon.

Dean bent and picked up the bar, considering. He then flipped it so he was holding the sharp end, offering the other out to the hacker. "Fine, but take this with you. I want you to keep behind me at all times, and if something slips past me, aim for the neck."

Hardison looked down at the metal piece for a moment before he took it. "You mean _someone_ right? Not something?" he asked, looking at Dean worriedly.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Dean replied. He turned for the warehouse door, and without ceremony, kicked it in.

The metal door slammed against the wall, starting everyone inside the building. The sunlight was the only light source in the dark warehouse, exposing the now alert vampires. Dean counted fifteen before he stepped through the door and pulled his machete, dropping the first within seconds. Dean fought his way through the first few steps, Hardison shouting at him from behind.

" _What are you doing, you psycho!"_ Hardison yelped as he dodged a flying head.

"Just stay behind me and avoid their mouths!" Dean called over his shoulder. A screech rang out, and he was forced to dodge a set of claws.

"Their _mouths?!"_ Hardison asked, then immediately understood as he came face to face with something decidedly _not human_.

Someone slipped by Dean, and Hardison froze in terror. The thing in front of him was monstrous, all sharp teeth and evil eyes. Its claws reached out, grasping for his neck, and he couldn't force his legs to move. Hardison locked eyes with certain death, but before he could blink, something silver flashed in the sunlight, and then there was just a bloody stump where the head had once been.

Dean stood behind the fallen body. "Keep moving! You stop, you die!" He shoved his machete through the neck of a vampire running at him from the side, twisting it before pulling it out, effectively decapitating the thing. He was already spattered with blood from head to toe.

Hardison kept close to Dean after that, gripping his makeshift weapon tighter in his hands.

Dean began to panic slightly, though he didn't let it show. There were too many of them, too many vampires. They'd never make it out of here alive, let alone with a possibly injured Parker in tow. He threw his arm up to block a knife, cursing at the vampire when it cut through his leather jacket, though it didn't quite break the skin.

"You sonuvabitch! This is my favorite coat!" he roared at the vampire, swinging his machete at the offender.

In the corner of the warehouse was a cage, no bigger than six feet tall and four feet wide. Parker lay curled on the floor, her head between her arms and her knees curled into her chest. Dean growled low in his throat. They were maybe fifteen feet from the cage she was locked in, and the vampires' attention was currently focused on the threat: Dean. He looked back at Hardison.

"Make a run for the cage and break the lock. I'll distract them while you get her out of here. Don't come back for me, no matter what." Dean shucked off his jacket.

Hardison objected. "No, Dea-"

"Go, Hardison," Dean growled. His jacket hit the floor.

He waited until Hardison was sprinting for the cage, then drew his machete across his forearm, blood instantly spilling down to dribble on the floor. He smirked at the now frozen vampires, every single one hypnotized by the crimson steadily leaking from his arm.

"Come get me, you sons of bitches. I smell _good,_ don't I?" he taunted. "Come get some of Dean Winchester. Brag about it to your BFFs." He readjusted his hold on his weapon.

Within minutes, the rest of the vampires had surrounded Dean, and Hardison could no longer see him. He could hear a steady stream of curses flowing from Dean's lips, even through the mass of monsters. Hardison picked Parker up and made a mad dash for the door. Dean's pained scream followed him out. He nearly turned back, but then he looked down at Parker's unconscious form and continued forward. He skidded along the pavement, his shoulder slamming into the side of Lucille. Nate and Sophie looked at him expectantly.

"Where's Dean?" Nate asked.

Hardison gasped for air, leaning against the van as he clutched Parker closer. "He's still in there. Those… The vampires surrounded him, Nate."

 **...**

Eliot froze as Dean's scream ripped through the air, and his stomach dropped to his toes. What Hardison said next drove his inner wolf into the open.

" _He's still in there. Those… The vampires surrounded him, Nate."_

He dropped down on all fours, chocolate fur spreading to cover his entire body. His bones cracked as his form shifted, muscles bulging and warping as they writhed beneath his skin. He growled, eyes glowing gold and teeth elongating into fangs. The wolf was in control now, and it was focused on one thing: Dean. He took off at a run, nose to the ground as he navigated the warehouse district and was hit with the smells of the team and Dean. Sweat, dirt, and blood. Too much blood. Some of it Dean's. Too much of it Dean's.

He darted through the team, shoving Nate and Hardison apart, Sophie screaming at the sight of him. He nearly knocked the grifter over, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. A growl reverberated in his chest as he saw the vampires surrounding the hunter, who had fallen to his knees and then collapsed on his side, limp. The wolf could barely hear Dean's weak, thready heartbeat. His hackles raised as his muscles coiled, ready to spring on his unsuspecting prey. The wolf snarled as he lunged, lips pulled back to reveal long, wickedly sharp teeth. He hit his mark, his jaw clamping around the nearest vampire's neck, teeth sinking in easily.

With a single jerk, the wolf easily tore head from shoulder, the appendage falling unnoticed to the floor. He turned and pounced on the other vampires, ripping through each with deadly accuracy. The last few got smart and ran, leaving injured comrades to the mercy of the pissed off wolf. Panting and bleeding from a wound on his side, he collapsed by the hunter, his head lying on Dean's chest. His fur quickly soaked through with blood, some Dean's, some the vampires'.

The wolf nudged at the hunter's chin, whining when he received no answer. _Mate?_ He could still hear Dean's heart beating in his chest, weak though it was _._

"Eliot?" the hunter whispered, forcing one dull green eye open.

The wolf whimpered and nudged the hunter's jaw again, this time licking blood and sweat off the skin of Dean's face. Dean smiled slightly, head lolling to the side. His arm wound around the wolf's neck, bloody fingers curling into the fur and holding on tight. Dean's eyes slid shut as footsteps pounded across the concrete floor. Three sets-two pairs of tennis shoes and a pair of clicking heels. The footsteps slowed as they neared, though from the blood on the ground or the sight of the canine lying beside him, he couldn't tell. The sound of a gun cocking roused Dean once more, this time gripping the wolf tighter against him.

"Don't hurt my wolf," he slurred out, still not opening his eyes.

"I'm sorry, _your_ wolf?" Sophie asked, looking at Hardison and Nate.

Nate shrugged and Hardison cracked a smile. "Ya know what, Mama? I don't really care. He just saved my girl's life from _vampires_. Dean the Psycho just went up a few pegs in my book."

Nate crouched down and was surprised when the wolf didn't growl at him, just eyed him warily, eyes locked on his every movement as he assessed Dean's condition. "It's great that Dean is your hero now, Hardison, but we really need to call this man an ambulance. He might not be here much longer."

As if understanding him, the wolf whined deep in his throat and nudged Dean's chin again. Nate looked down at the wolf and was surprised to see the intelligence staring back at him. He looked into luminous gold eyes and whispered, "Help is on the way. Dean's gonna be okay."

…

Dean woke with a dry, scratchy throat and thick tongue. He forced his eyes open, the room bright and blurry. He blinked a few times, and his vision cleared. There was a TV hanging on the wall in front of him, a white board below it, the name Jack Samuels written on it in dry erase marker. Between dividing curtain. the plain white walls, the starched sheets, and the not-so-faint scent of antiseptic in the air, he felt he could safely assume he was in a hospital. He groaned. He really hated hospitals.

The paper cup on his bedtable was incredibly tempting, so he reached for it. Mistake. Pain shot through his ribs and arm. Air hissed out between his teeth and he slowly drew his arm back, cradling it to his chest. The door opening and closing made him stiffen (painfully), and look for a weapon of some sort. There was none, and he cursed under his breath, relaxing only when a familiar form rounded the corner, eyes shining and jaw set. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked _very_ pissed off. When he saw the hunter was awake, however, his entire demeanor changed. Dean could see the relief in the way his shoulders sagged and his arms fell by his sides.

He was leaning over the bed in seconds, hair falling across his face as he pressed his lips to Dean's, his hand coming up to stroke the bruise along Dean's jaw. Dean responded, his head tipping back and his hand resting on top of Eliot's. Even after the wolf pulled away, Dean stayed like that, eyes closed and lips parted. Eliot gently ran his thumb over the hunter's cheek, tracing the contours of his face and committing the image to memory. Dean's eyes slowly opened, and he smiled. It was one of the rare smiles that no one else ever saw, one that made green eyes sparkle like gemstones and crinkle with laughter, years of pain and misery melting away and leaving behind a young man, all but glowing with simple happiness.

The smile faded as a thought popped into his head. "The team. What are you doing he-"

Eliot interrupted him. "They've gone home for the night. They were here for hours with you, mostly Parker." He looked at Dean for a moment, and then planted his ass on the side of Dean's bed. "Don't ever do that again, you hear me? I-" A sigh. "I need you here, alright?" he finished quietly.

Dean nodded in answer. "I'll try not to, dog breath." He smirked slightly.

Eliot narrowed his eyes at the hunter and moved to the chair beside the bed, propping his boots up where he had previously been sitting. Dean glared, but couldn't bring himself to push the wolf's boots off the bed. "The team will be here tomorrow. They'll be asking questions, hunter. You'll need to answer them," Eliot stated.

Dean nodded. "Do you want me to tell them about you?"

Eliot shook his head, glancing away for a moment. "No. It'll be too much, too soon. Eventually, maybe." Maybe being the key word.

"But that's tomorrow, right?" At Eliot's nod, the hunter sighed and leaned back against the pillow. "Good. Can you hand me that mug?" Dean jerked his head in the direction of the cup.

Eliot rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing the requested item and holding it out to the hunter. Dean took took a big gulp. "Thanks," he whispered as Eliot set the mug back on the table.

By the time Eliot had again taken his seat, Dean was fast asleep, chin resting on his shoulder. Eliot propped his elbows on his knees and stared at the hunter. His mission was to watch over Dean tonight, to protect him from harm. He couldn't do that with the team around, so he would damn well do it when they weren't. He watched the hunter, so innocent and vulnerable looking as he slept. He was oblivious to the world around him, trusting that his wolf would keep him safe as the night wore on.


End file.
